Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The Chosen - Chapter 4c by Nova

We pulled away from the crowd with their faces still in my eyes. I was trying to remember if I heard a few cheers and someone shouting "Kill the machines!" in the background.  I was pretty sure I had.  "Perhaps HE had sent angels?" I hoped so.  Loud Officer was driving. His partner had stayed behind so I guess he wasn't really much of a partner.  He was talking to someone on his radio, telling them secret code words of which the only thing I understood was "Subject" probably meaning me, was being transported.  I could see why he had to be alone in his car. The center of the car was filled with electronic boxes and a monitor screen like the kind we had beat on the day before. I think it was the day before. Time was so fuzzy that I wondered why people bothered with it.

I squirmed about trying to get my arms comfortable and trying to ignore my rising anxiety level about being cuffed. Loud Cop spoke to me "Relax. We'll be there in ten minutes or less."  I began reciting the fear psalm to myself except I couldn't remember all the words. "The LORD is my shepherd. I will not want. He will lead me through green valleys where death and evil hang out."  I heard Loud Cop laugh and then say "Hey holy man. This is how it goes" and then he began reciting it and I joined in.  I could tell he felt awkward about it half way through but he kept going.  I didn't say anything other than "Thank you" at the end.

Loud Cop spoke into his microphone one more time as the gate to the place I never wanted to go opened. We drove into a garage place except this one only had us parked in it and I don't think it was meant to park more than two cars and not for very long. Loud Cop got out, his car door closing echoed inside here, than I was on my way out of the car and into the machine.

The officer inside behind the counter said "Hey Dickson. Whatcha got for me? He was a Sheriff and not a real cop.  Sheriff's were keepers of the cages and the people who came and threw you out of your home.  He looked at me and back at Dickson and said "Nice job on the face." Then without looking at me he said "Lose the attitude asshole" and handed Dickson paperwork to fill out.  I wasn't hiding how I felt about Sheriff's and I really didn't care. Another Sheriff appeared behind me and took me by my arm.  I turned to look back at Loud Cop Dickson but he didn't look at me. He just did his paperwork.

The machine was very good at eating people. I was searched. Then I was asked for my ID and other information, given a wrist band, and then had my face looked at. The guy who did it was quick, professional, and seemed very nice.  Then I was led into a cell that was empty except for me.  I was glad. They had taken my holster and belt so my pants were having a hard time staying on.  I didn't want to end up in a cell with a bunch of guys and pants that wanted to drop to my ankles every time I let go of  them.

1 comment:

  1. Jail is a good place to get three hots and a cot while working on your manifesto. It would actually be pretty hard for this guy to organize anything out on the streets - he has to spend too much of his time looking for food and shelter. Of course, he's going to have to channel his craziness in a more productive way if he's going to amount to anything.

    Jail also gives you street cred as an anti-authority/ anti-government activist. A well-attended trial would help, but right now he's still a nobody.